


the landslide will bring it down

by smallblueandloud



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, American Sign Language, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Multi, Natasha Doesn't Die Don't Worry, Offscreen character death, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Take care of yourselves y'all, and a whole segment in which guns are present (but only fired in a shooting range), dealing with the death of your spouses and trying to raise your children! good times, quarantine content, there's vague description of fights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23472094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallblueandloud/pseuds/smallblueandloud
Summary: Lila is crying, taking big gulps of air in between her words. She’s scared. In the background, there’s a baby crying, but Natasha barely registers it.“Mama and Daddy just- they just- Mama Tasha, I can’t find them.” In her mind’s eye, Natasha can see her: a scared eleven year old girl, with her hair in braids, clutching the landline. “Cooper disappeared in front of me. It’s just me and Nathaniel, and I don’t know what to do. Mama-”(or, natasha's spouses and eldest child dissolve into ash - and she is left to pick up the pieces)
Relationships: Clint Barton/Laura Barton/Natasha Romanov, Lila Barton & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Comments: 16
Kudos: 74





	the landslide will bring it down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paperairplanesopenwindows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperairplanesopenwindows/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Time Makes You Bolder (Children Get Older)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22532128) by [paperairplanesopenwindows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperairplanesopenwindows/pseuds/paperairplanesopenwindows). 



> okay, so this fic is dedicated to sara for several reasons. first of all, she's an amazing friend who deserves more ot3 content. (we've been talking for more than a year, can you believe it?) secondly, she started talking to me about her initial idea for her story Time Makes You Bolder (Children Get Older) (linked below, please read it, it's amazing and hurts SO MUCH) and like a jerk i started talking about this idea instead. so this whole fic is her fault. thank her as necessary.
> 
> i know we don't have canon ages for the two eldest kids, but i aged lila up a little bit from the plausible limits of her age based on her appearance in age of ultron so her storyline in this fic would make sense. so for purposes of this fic, cooper was born in 2004, lila was born in 2007, and nathaniel was born in 2014. at the time of infinity war, cooper is 14, lila is 11, and nathaniel is 3.
> 
> title is from _landslide_ by fleetwood mac, another sara contribution. she found it just after endgame and says it perfectly describes natasha during that movie - i have to agree. (i'm so incredibly proud of this title y'all.) please enjoy this 10k offering of quarantine content.

[2018. June 1. 16:43.]

After Thanos disappears, no one speaks. Everyone - everyone _left,_ that is - just kind of sits. And stares at the small mounds of ash.

Natasha is so _tired._ The world has just ended, and she doesn’t want to stand. It feels like everyone is dead: Sam, Barnes, Wanda, T’Challa... it’s just her, Steve, Thor, and Bruce left in the clearing, the remains of the best of Earth. Failed heroes.

It wouldn’t surprise her if Stark was still alive, too. The universe always had a terrible sense of humor like that, preserving the ones who had been fighting the longest, decimating the newest, smartest, most powerful instead. Even Vision is gone, the best result of the long, sad history of Natasha’s team.

One, two, three, four, five... There were six original Avengers.

Fuck.

_Clint._

Natasha has always thought that she would know when Clint died. Something like fate had tied them together irrevocably - of course she would know when he left the world. A feeling in her gut. An emptiness at her six. Something, _something_ to warn her that her life had changed forever.

On the other hand, Natasha has always known sentimental things like that are foolishness. Life changes suddenly and unexpectedly. There’s no reason why she should have any more warning than anyone else.

[About that, she’s right.]

[Note this: she has no idea, although we know Clint is dead. She completely forgot his existence for five minutes. She will never forgive herself for this, not for the rest of her life. This is not as drastic as it sounds when her ledger is as red as any car Tony Stark has ever bought on impulse.]

Before she can remember where she put her phone, the burner she always keeps in her suit rings, a harsh sound. Bruce is nearly passed out and doesn’t stir. Thor looks up tiredly.

Steve doesn’t look away from the pile of ash that was once Bucky Barnes, but his head tilts to the side.

Only five people in the world have this number.

[Well, it’s two now, but Natasha doesn’t know that yet.]

“Hello?”

“Mama Tasha?” asks Lila. Her voice is shaky. She had resolved several months earlier to call Laura _Mama_ and Natasha _Mom,_ like Cooper did, because she’s a big kid now. She hadn’t faltered after the first week, and Natasha had privately mourned her baby, but everyone had moved on.

She’s back to the nicknames of her childhood. Something is wrong.

“Lila, baby?” asks Natasha, quiet instincts kicking in as she cradles the phone in her hand. “What’s wrong?”

[Here is where she realizes what it must be. All of them have lost much today, but this is the only feeling she will remember tomorrow. The sinking in her stomach.]

She’d forgotten about Clint for five minutes. She never thinks about Laura during battle, but now her compartmentalization is failing. Natasha had never thought it _could_ fail, being as it was trained into her before she can remember. Any other time, she would recognize the victory, but right now-

Lila is crying, taking big gulps of air in between her words. She’s scared. In the background, there’s a baby crying, but Natasha barely registers it.

“Mama and Daddy just- they just- Mama Tasha, I can’t find them.” In her mind’s eye, Natasha can see her: a scared eleven year old girl, with her hair in braids, clutching the landline. “Cooper disappeared in front of me. It’s just me and Nathaniel, and I don’t know what to do. Mama-”

[The Black Widow’s performance ends. Bow, wait for the curtain to close. Next performance: mother.]

“Lila, baby, listen to me, it’s going to be okay.” Her voice must get panicked, because Steve is finally pulled out of his trance. He goes over to her as she keeps talking. “Lila, I need you to go into the kitchen and get yourself a glass of water. Can you do that for me?”

[This is only a performance in the sense that everything Natasha does is a performance. She has rules, has scripts, and follows them to the letter. Somehow, now, she is panicking and playing it beautifully. When does a costume become an identity?]

Distantly, her mind is running calculations. How long does it take to get from Wakanda to Iowa? Where can she get a quinjet or something similar? Is the water and electricity still working, and how long will that last? When was the last time Lila and Nathaniel ate? What _time_ is it in Iowa, actually?

Those calculations can wait. First, she needs to put out immediate fires.

“Lila, honey, before you drink I need you to look at the water. Does it look clear? Does it move right?”

Lila’s still crying, Natasha is pretty sure, but she’s doing it quietly enough to be able to speak. “Yes,” she says, sniffling a little. “It’s flowing right.”

“Good,” says Natasha. “Make sure it tastes right, and then drink the whole glass. You hear me, baby?”

“Yeah,” says Lila. The phone is set down on the counter and Natasha can hear quiet sounds of gulping. First rule of crying children: get them to drink some water. They can’t cry and drink at the same time, and it prevents dehydration.

Laura had taught her that the first time Cooper had skinned his knee. Natasha closes her eyes against the sudden urge to cry. God, Laura is gone. Laura and Clint and Cooper are all gone.

Suddenly, Natasha’s family has been cut in half. She’s a widow dressed in black, twice over.

[The irony goes on, though. She’s finally escaped from her dropped-without-a-second-glance selkie’s skin, finally found something permanent, and it’s from the worst kind of tragedy. Some things you can’t leave behind. Some pain you can’t slide out from beneath. She will always wear this grief.]

“Natasha,” says Steve, crouching in front of her. His mission voice is back. “Natasha, is that one of your kids?”

She doesn’t bother to correct him, keep up the lie. They had pretended for so long that Laura and Clint were the only parents of the children, that Natasha was nothing but the friendly aunt - but none of it matters anymore.

“Yeah,” she says, pulling the burner down and covering the microphone. “Laura and Clint are gone. And my oldest, Cooper. It’s just Lila and the baby in the house, and she’s eleven years old.”

“Okay,” says Steve. He doesn’t bother with sympathy, and she has never been more grateful. “What are you going to do?”

“Go to her,” says Natasha, like it’s obvious, _because_ it’s obvious. “I’m her mother.”

[When does a costume become an identity? When you choose it, I suppose. Natasha chose this fourteen years ago, five months before Cooper was born. She has chosen it every day since.]

“I’ll go with you,” says Steve. “You’ll probably need help, at least for a few days.”

“Probably,” she says, keeping eye contact as she pulls the phone back up. “Are you done, Lila?”

“Yes,” says Lila, sounding steadied. “Yeah, I drank all of it.”

“Good, honey,” says Natasha. “I’m going home. I’m going to take care of you and your brother, okay? But it’s going to take a little while, since I’m so far away, and I need you to do some things for me before then. You’re a big girl and you can handle it. Right?”

“Yes,” says Lila.

[Sometimes, all the questions of identity fade away. This is what she knows, _all_ she knows, right now: Natasha is so very proud of her daughter.]

“Good girl,” says Natasha.

* * *

[2019. May 7. 17:22.]

“Okay,” says Natasha. She reaches down and takes Nathaniel’s hand, making sure he doesn’t run off. “You know what to do, honey?”

[It’s an English nickname, chosen in part for its normalcy. Natasha once used Russian, when they were safe and alone in the house. Russian is one of the things that will never leave her. Compulsive hiding of her nature is another.]

“Yes, mama,” says Lila. She’s standing a little ways away from them, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her pack is next to Natasha’s own, on the floor at Nathaniel’s feet, so she’s probably feeling lighter than usual.

“Good,” says Natasha. “Go ahead.”

Lila strides ahead, purposeful, like she already lives in the broken-down building that she’s supposed to scout. Natasha watches her movements, noting down small discrepancies she’ll mention later. There aren’t many, though, and the ones she sees will be difficult to ever fix.

Natasha has been trying to teach her how to become someone else - the most important component of survival. She’s still not sure how to teach the more important concepts without ruining Lila’s sense of personhood.

So far, though, Lila’s age - twelve, five years older than Natasha was when she learned these things - seems to be keeping her agency. She doesn’t hesitate to argue or ask questions, and she still has an identity to return to when she stops fighting.

Good signs, all of them.

Lila is learning well, too, which is slightly more concerning. She knows to act as though no one will stop her, because that’s the best way to stop them from trying. She knows not to threaten outright, when they meet others - a subtle promise is more mature, and underneath her braids and babyface is a much more terrifying proposition.

She has even taken to acting scared and confused when Natasha is bartering for supplies, like she hasn’t eaten in a few days, to net more sympathy and a better deal. It works, but Natasha never told her to do it, and it keeps her up at night.

It’s been a year since the world ended. Clint and Laura have been dead for a year. Natasha’s not sure how they would want her to raise the children in this collapsed world, but she’s doing her best with what she has.

[She worries for hours at a time, that Clint hates her from wherever he’s been banished to, that Laura looks away in horror. She can’t bear the thought. She tortures herself with it to keep herself in check.]

They’d stayed in Iowa for ten months, because the rural areas had been less affected. Towns that were used to running on shortages kept chugging along when half their population went up in smoke.

But Natasha is an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., an Avenger. The cities are in chaos. Steve had called her two months ago for their monthly check-in, sounding apologetic.

“We need you out here, Nat,” he’d said. Steve has been many things, but Natasha thinks he’s best at field commander, rearranging resources to ensure the mission’s success. “I know you’ve got kids, but-”

“Yeah,” Natasha had said. “I understand.”

And she _does_ understand. This is her job. Just because she agreed to it when her children had three parents and neighbors to babysit during emergencies doesn’t mean she gets to quit now.

She didn’t think twice about taking Lila and Nathaniel with her. Well, maybe about Nathaniel - he’s only four, still a baby. Too young to see the worst of humanity that had crept into the sunlight of the ruins of New York.

But she’s been training Lila since the world ended, and it’s going well. Enough that Lila isn’t in significant danger. It never would have worked with Cooper, who was a bookish, quiet kid. But Lila has always lived loudly. Defending herself is just a matter of channeling that energy into control.

That’s what it had started out as, teaching Lila basic positions so she would quiet down for once. But it hadn’t taken Natasha long to realize that for Lila to have any kind of future, she’s going to have to be able to leave the small towns.

[Natasha never wants there to be another Black Widow, but if passing on her skills will save Lila’s life, and make it possible for her to have _choices_ in her future, she will train her without question.]

[More irony: Black Widow training leading to _choices,_ of all things. Somewhere, Natasha’s instructors are rolling in their graves.]

[Well. Metaphorically, of course. Natasha didn’t leave them in _graves._ ]

And then she couldn’t leave Nathaniel behind. Sure, there was probably someone trustworthy to take care of him in Iowa, a neighbor or something - but she’s still one of the most dangerous people in the world. If anyone can defend her family, it’s her.

Natasha turns to glance around them. The street is totally deserted. She eyes the building behind them, hesitant to turn her back to it, but there’s no hint of movement. The dust on the steps has no footsteps.

There’s a sound behind her, and she turns back to Lila, who is walking back out of the building towards Natasha and Nathaniel. She keeps her gaze forward, even though Natasha knows she wants to be looking around.

She’s proud of the progress Lila’s made, but she still worries. A scared, panicking child is an easy target, but Lila is clearly well-trained - putting her in another kind of danger. The most important part of being good is making sure no one knows it, but Lila doesn’t know that yet.

“Well?” she asks, as Lila jogs the last few feet and turns to stand next to her.

“No one’s inside,” says Lila, carefully. “There are five separate sleeping areas laid out, and there’s a pile of food in the corner.” She sounds like her older brother did, trying to remember the grocery list on a warm Sunday afternoon.

The thought makes Natasha’s heart seize in her chest. Realistically, Clint always understood doing what was necessary to survive. He would have accepted this, because surviving, broken, is always better than the alternative. But Laura never understood the world the way they did - and they loved her for it - even though she always accepted their jobs.

To see Lila, the splitting image of Laura, doing perimeter checks-

Clint had always known Natasha, from that first moment in some city in Europe, down to her bones, better than she herself ever has. Laura hadn’t, but she’d always trusted her. Natasha has to keep believing that’s enough.

The sounds of a scuffle start to drift down the street. Nathaniel peers curiously around Natasha’s legs. Lila doesn’t move until Natasha turns to look.

Two people are attacking a woman, who has curled into a ball on the ground. It looks like she’s protecting something.

There’s the glint of two knives in the sunlight. The woman on the ground isn’t going to make it out of this without help.

Natasha glances down at her son, looks at Lila, and makes a split-second decision. She picks up Nathaniel and the bags, runs to the side of the building, sets him down gently and kneels on the ruined concrete so she can make eye contact. Waits until he’s watching her hands.

“Nathaniel, baby,” she signs, trying to stay quiet so they don’t attract unwanted attention. He slips his thumb out of his mouth. “Good boy. Honey, you’re staying right here, okay? Don’t move an inch. Stay with the bags. You got that?”

“Got it,” he signs, one-handed. He’s a quiet child, doesn’t like talking very much, but she thinks he said more aloud before Thanos. She can’t remember exactly, not anymore, can’t tell the difference between truth and wishful thinking. “Staying right here.”

“Good,” she signs, and kisses his forehead quickly. Then she straightens up and turns to Lila. “Come on, honey. You remember how to disarm someone?”

It’s a foolish question, and one Natasha never would have dreamed asking her S.H.I.E.L.D. trainees. Muscle memory is not conscious and is not easily forgotten. But training her daughter is crossing all sorts of her wires.

Lila considers for a moment. “Yes,” she says, out loud.

Years of parenting from Laura have made both kids incredibly aware of their own boundaries, and Natasha will never stop admiring it.

[When she was a child, she knew herself, but not emotionally. She could catalogue her own injuries with perfect anatomical precision by age twelve, but she never would have been able to say why she woke up crying.]

“Good.”

[She’s _still_ working on that.]

They jog up to the fight. Natasha pulls the first attacker off the woman, a man, and dodges his knife faster than he probably thought possible. She relishes the look of surprise on his face, briefly, then hits his throat with enough force to make him crumple.

Absently, her feet crossed and her knees bent, she grabs his knife off the ground; then she turns to Lila, who is doing nothing but dodging the other attacker’s weapon.

Natasha wonders why Lila isn’t fighting back, then gets a better look at her face. She’s _terrified._

Natasha has been - mistakenly, it seems - going slightly easier on her than S.H.I.E.L.D. did with its newbies. Lila isn’t ready for a real fight, no matter what she’d said earlier.

And now she’s in danger. And Natasha was the one that entered them in this fight.

Possessed by a sudden fury - at herself or at this world or maybe just at this one mugger - Natasha lunges forward, pressing herself to his back and holding the stolen knife to his throat.

[She doesn’t notice it, but it’s clear from our perspective: the process drags him back precious inches from Lila, so she’s out of his arm’s reach. Sometimes her training kicks in even when she’s not aware of it. This might worry her to know about, if it wasn’t protecting her daughter.]

“I’m going to give you one chance, since this is the apocalypse,” she breathes into his ear. “Leave now.”

She steps back, and he turns toward her and drops to his knees, crawling forward so he can feel his buddy’s pulse.

“He’s alive,” she says. “I won’t be so forgiving the next time I find you.”

She has no idea if anyone cares about the Avengers these days, or still recognizes her from the battle against the Chitauri. Still, she’s terrifying enough without a reputation - he drags his buddy away without a second of hesitation. She watches until they’re around the corner.

Then she turns to Lila, who’s standing there frozen, and the woman, who’s struggling up from the ground.

“Are both of you okay?” she asks.

Lila doesn’t meet her eyes.

The woman smiles hesitantly at Natasha. “Yes. Thank you so much.” She signs it, and now that Natasha’s looking she sees that the woman’s watching her lips carefully. She’s deaf.

“It was the right thing to do,” signs Natasha, and the woman relaxes a little, no longer having to try to lipread - something Clint always complained about. “What’s your name?”

[Just because she has grown to save people because it is right doesn’t mean she won’t make use of resources, if she has to. That means debts, especially life-debts from people who have valuable skills or supplies.]

“Alice. Alice Weiler. I used to run the co-op around the corner from here. Who are you?”

“Natasha Romanoff,” she signs. “I used to be an Avenger. Take care of yourself, okay?”

Without waiting for a response, she reaches out a hand to Lila, who latches onto her arm instantly. As well as she was doing earlier, she seems to have regressed back to her actual age. It will take time to train confidence back into her.

_No,_ Natasha reminds herself. _This is good. She hasn’t been brainwashed. She’s still a child. And this is how a child reacts._

She leads Lila back to the corner of the building to collect Nathaniel and their bags, and takes both of her children into the building across the street from the one that Lila had patrolled. Closer inspection proves that Natasha was right earlier - there’s no sign of any recent occupation. She doubts anyone’s been inside since the world ended.

Ignoring the pile of ash halfway out the elevator, she leads them into a back room and releases Lila’s hand, turns to lock the door, sets her backpack on the ground.

She lets herself take a deep breath, straightens her spine. This will be a reasonably secure place to sleep, although she needs to find a permanent safehouse soon.

Nathaniel sits on the floor and looks up at her. “Story?”

Lila has laid down in the corner, facing the wall. Natasha glances at her once, but decides to let her be for now.

[Your first fight is hard, harder when it feels like you’ve messed something up. Natalia had never been permitted to have a breakdown, but Natasha had wallowed for hours, two months into her precious freedom. It’s healthy to wallow, she’d learned, at least a little.]

Nathaniel must take her concern for hesitation, because he makes a pleading face, his signs more exaggerated. _“Please?”_

She smiles at him. She never stops being grateful that he’s kept some of his innocence, even though it only shows when they’re behind a locked door. “Alright,” she says, playing at reluctance. She sits down, crossing her legs, and he clambers into them.

“Which one do you want to hear?” she asks.

Nathaniel thinks for a moment. She can visualize his expression, even though he’s facing away from her. Then, out loud: “The one with you and Daddy and Bud- Buda- Budapest!”

“Very good,” says Natasha, smiling where he can’t see her. She’s been telling Nathaniel sanitized stories of Clint and Laura, trying to supplement his memories with her own, even though he’s always more interested in the action ones than Laura defending her thesis. It’s a good way to make sure he can pronounce place names correctly, because even though he can sign them, not everyone in the world knows ASL. “Well, Agent Coulson was...”

Hours later, Natasha is still sitting with Nathaniel in her lap, although he’s been asleep for a long time. His weight is comforting. She had never enjoyed being close to a human being until she’d met Clint and Laura, but that was only a sign of the extent of her trust issues. Red Room training couldn’t stop her from being touch starved.

In the corner, Lila’s breathing finally evens out into sleep. Natasha sighs and carefully lifts Nathaniel out of her lap.

A few minutes later, she has him tucked into his sleeping bag and has carefully - more gently than she’s handled explosives - covered Lila in a blanket. She takes a minute to stare at them, both peaceful, and then slips outside the door to make a phone call.

Steve answers on the second ring. “Yeah?”

He sounds out of breath. She frowns. Things that put Steve out of breath are... not good things. But she’s too tired to wring details out of him about whatever fight he’s gotten himself into. “Are you busy?”

“No,” he says, clearly lying. There’s a thud on the other side. “Okay, now I am.”

“Lila froze up today,” she says, ignoring the shouting on his end. “There was a mugging going on and she said she was ready so we went in to help. But they’re never ready.”

Steve lets out a breath. He seems to have stopped for the moment. She listens to the echo of his breathing and charts a mental image of the mental hallway he’s in, leaning against the wall, with barely a thought. “How’s she doing? Is she hurt?” he asks.

“Not physically,” says Natahsha. “And she’s sleeping, finally. But I’m worried about her. It’s hard, freezing up and then getting over it. And it’s my fault. I’ve been going too easy on her.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve been so caught up in trying to protect her from what happened to me that she almost got hurt today. If I were anyone else, she would’ve been in trouble.”

“But you’re not anyone else.” He hesitates. “Nat. Did you call me to be guilty, or do you want my two cents?”

“Whatever you’ve got,” she says. Technically, she has more experience with kids than he does. But she doesn’t process emotions like anyone else, and he’s empathetic enough to make up the difference.

Plus, she’s not too proud to refuse help if it’s offered.

“You’re doing your best,” says Steve. “I think it’s admirable that you’re trying to protect her. So you think you messed up. There was probably some pain in the cards if you went hard on her too. You never know, Nat. Just do your best, apologize when you think you need to and sometimes when you don’t, and keep them alive. That’s the best you can promise.”

Natasha squeezes her eyes shut. She misses Laura, who would have said something like this. She would have handed her a mug of tea and smiled like the sunrise and kissed her gently. _We’re doing our best,_ she’d always say. _And it’s not always enough, but it’s the best we’ve got. We just keep getting better, and not permanently scarring them, and it’ll be okay._

“Thanks, Steve,” she says. “I’ll let you go. Good luck at whatever you’re doing, huh?”

It’s capturing bad guys. She knows this. She could even pinpoint the city he’s in right now, if she were paying more attention. But it’s courtesy to pretend she has no idea.

“Thanks,” he says. “And no problem. I got you, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I know.”

* * *

[2020. July 12. 15:09.]

When Lila is thirteen years old, she’s almost killed by someone who’s too strong for her to physically fight.

That’s when Natasha realizes she’s waited too long.

It’s sticky and hot in New York this time of year, but she still takes Lila on the long trek across the city to meet up with Steve, who’s been coordinating Earth’s defense with General Okoye from his base uptown for six months.

[Natasha doesn’t know this, but just because it’s clear you’re wondering: Nakia, former partner of the former King T’Challa, is ruling Wakanda. She won the contest of ascension handily, in part thanks to her skill in fighting - but also because half of her opponents were piles of ash. She never wanted to rule, but she knows more about the way the country runs than any other possible challenger; Wakanda is coping better than most other countries. The dowager queen is a pillar of support.]

When they reach Steve, set up in the building formerly known as Avengers Tower, he teases Natasha and coos appropriately over how big Lila’s gotten. Lila doesn’t like it, Natasha knows, thinks that since she’s a teenager she’s outgrown this, but she’s probably the youngest person Steve’s seen in weeks.

Lila is definitely mature in comparison with her brother. But Nathaniel is safe with Alice, who has become Natasha’s chosen caregiver during missions. She’s caring, good with children, and can make a lot of food from scratch - all useful skills.

So Lila bears the brunt of Steve’s latent uncle instincts, squirming a little but answering questions about her last haircut, her favorite color, her last fight. At that question, she stiffens a little, carefully enough that Natasha knows she’s remembering a recent lesson about hiding her emotions. Natasha steps in.

“The other guy was too big,” she says to Steve, willing him to accept that _some_ people can’t take _any_ opponent. He doesn’t argue, so she keeps talking. “Lila’s good, for sure, but she’s also thirteen. She needs- we need- I need some guns to teach her how to defend herself.”

[Natasha hasn’t held a gun in two years. It’s the longest she’s gone without using one since age eight. Her too-early introduction to them is why she’s been hesitating to teach Lila how to use one, although she doesn’t realize she’s trying to protect her daughter from her own trauma. Laura would have figured it out, but then again, Laura’s been gone for years now.]

“Sure thing,” says Steve, and leads them to the elevator. The tower was mostly repaired after the fight with Ultron, even though the Avengers moved to the compound upstate. Now, Steve benefits from Tony’s foresight - it’s much easier to defend the city when one has a fortress on site.

She studies his face. He looks perfectly healthy as always, but there’s something haggard in his expression. She understands the exhaustion, but...

Together, Natasha and Steve try to keep order in the city of the United Nations headquarters. Ideally, they would be looking after the world, but they can’t handle anything more than a little coordination with Okoye - and the rest of the world seems to be taking care of itself. Washington, D.C. has been on lockdown since the snap. People with powers or influence have emerged out of every bolthole to secure their own areas: Thor in European capitals, Rhodey with Tony’s technology in the big cities of the Americas, Wakadan nationals in Africa. Politicians and community advocates all over the world in their own countries. Many, _many_ mutants in forgotten cities and provinces.

[No one’s worried about a mutant registration act in this world, too, which makes things easier. A nobody named Robert Kelly disintegrated into ash before he managed to tell anyone about his plans to become senator.]

The world got lucky. The battle with Thanos and a few loud arguments seemed to settle Steve and Tony’s rivalry. As much as she hates to say it, Natasha’s pretty sure the death of Bucky Barnes helped. Their reconciliation spells resources for Steve - why she’s here for guns - and eyes on the ground for Tony. She has no doubt they’ve helped millions, working together.

She worries about Steve, though. Working in a warzone is what he’s best at, but he’s also very isolated, the way he was before S.H.I.E.L.D. fell. She thought it would be better once he found Sam and managed to rescue Barnes, but he lost both of them in the same fell swoop.

Tony and Pepper are busy trying to put the world back together while raising their kid, who got along great with Nathaniel the one time Natasha managed to make it upstate. Bruce is staying with them, trying to study ways to undo what’s happened by asking Carol to fit investigations for his research between saving planets. Thor checks in once a month, but he mostly enforces Europe’s laws when he gets a break from ruling his people.

So that leaves Natasha. She tries her best to talk to Steve frequently, but she and Lila are on the streets most of the day, and she spends her nights resting or guarding her family. Anyways, she had the free time to harass him about making friends when they were partners at S.H.I.E.L.D., and it didn’t make much of a difference. Steve is a stubborn bastard when he wants to be.

The doors of the elevator open on the shooting range. Natasha and Lila follow Steve out.

Lila is glancing around, curious. She’s never been in a shooting range before, except maybe the tiny one Clint built in the barn. Natasha says _maybe_ because she can’t remember if they ever let Lila watch them practice.

No time like the present. She takes the gun Steve offers her, weighs it in her hand. She turns to Lila and shows it to her, but doesn’t let her take it yet.

“This is one of the most dangerous things you will ever hold,” she says. “Before you use it, you need to understand that one slip-up can mean the end of someone’s life. I trust your judgement, and I trust your care. We’ve trained enough that I think you’re ready to use one of these. But you need to know how to use it safely, first. Put on some headphones.”

Lila nods, wide eyed, and turns to try and find a pair. Steve has them ready, holds one out to her and corrects her when she puts them on backwards.

“You guys aren’t going to wear any?”

Natasha glances at Steve, who grins and shrugs his shoulders. She hands him the gun and slips into sign so she doesn’t have to shout for Lila to understand her. “Steve has his serum, so if his ears get hurt, they heal very quickly. Also, he’s used to the sound.” She hesitates.

[Natasha still hasn’t told anyone except her spouses about the knockoff serum the Red Room injected her with. She doesn’t intend to tell Steve. He probably won’t understand her explanation in ASL, but better safe than sorry.]

“I’m used to it too. Eventually, you’ll stop wearing the headphones, because you don’t want to flinch when you actually have to fire one of these.”

“That makes sense,” signs Lila. “Are you gonna want me to carry one?”

Natasha hesitates. “I’ll probably carry them,” she signs, eventually. “If you need one, I’ll give it to you. It’s a big responsibility to be carrying one at all times. I don’t want you to have to worry about making sure the safety’s on all the time.”

Lila nods.

Natasha takes the gun back and turns to the targets. She fires once, twice, three times, turns back to Lila. There are three holes clustered around the center of the target.

“Your dad used to be better at this than I am,” she signs, and has to breathe through the wave of grief in her chest. “He was- he was actually the best shot in the world. That’s where his call sign came from.”

[She tells Nathaniel stories of his other parents all the time, but very rarely does Lila listen. Although Natasha doesn’t know this, it’s because Lila doesn’t like to hear about all the things her parents hid from her before the world ended.]

“Hawkeye,” signs Lila, using the name sign that Clint developed back in his circus days. The one he kept for his entire life.

“Yes,” signs Natasha, and mirrors her: the letter H in the middle of the forehead. H-eye. “Hawkeye.”

* * *

[2021. June 9. 19:23.]

Natasha blinks bleary eyes open and does her best to focus on the face in front of hers.

She doesn’t recognize it.

It looks vaguely familiar, sure, but trying to remember where she knows it from makes pain lance through her head, directly behind her right eye. She moves her jaw, or tries to, but it seems to _shift_ and then she can’t move it at all. Further efforts just make it ache more.

She tries her best to glare at the person in front of her. He pulls back and gestures at an associate. “She’s awake.”

The associate walks towards her. “What do you remember, Agent Romanoff?”

Natasha gestures at her dislocated jaw, or at least does her best to. Her hands are tied to the arms of the chair she’s sitting in, something she hadn’t noticed until just now. She curses herself quietly for not taking more notice of her surroundings. She has a mild concussion and a lot of pain, but she’s pretty sure she’s been through worse.

[She has been. London, August 1987. Mission turned sour because her KGB handlers didn’t give her all the intel she needed. But Natasha doesn’t remember that, thanks to some strategically applied drugs.]

[The asset has to trust the handler, after all.]

The associate rolls her eyes and makes a quick gesture. The man unties Natasha’s right hand, quickly and clumsily.

She glares at him as he backs away. She could probably realign her jaw with one hand, but she _really_ doesn’t want to, so she signs, trying to look plaintive. Let them figure out what she’s saying.

“You got me on 73rd and Broadway. I don’t know what you want. Please let me go before my associate comes to get me.”

The man looks confused, but the woman laughs. She at least seems to be well trained enough to understand nonverbal communication. “Captain Rogers? Haven’t you heard? He’s out of the city for a week, going to visit Tony Stark upstate. And you’ll give us what we want in two days.”

Natasha exhales through her nose. She really, sincerely doubts that. She’s not a stranger to pain, and she’s not afraid to die. Alice will care for Nathaniel and Lila until Steve gets back, and then he can take the kids to Tony, where no one will be able to touch them. She’s a little embarrassed to have been caught, but there were three men and all of them had technology that was too advanced for any normal street gang, so she’ll cut herself a little slack. Hopefully Steve will find them and stop them before they get too powerful. She really doesn’t want him to indulge his death wish avenging her.

“Please,” she signs, with a straight face. “Let me go. I don’t know anything. Steve doesn’t trust me with his intel - I’m too weak to help him. He hasn’t told me anything. Please.”

Okay, so she doesn’t put as much effort as she should into facial expressions, which is half of communication in ASL. But she contorts her face in pain a little and hopes they’ll blame it on her jaw.

The woman narrows her eyes. She doesn’t seem to be buying it, but there’s a knock on the door of the room, and she begrudgingly turns away from Natasha to watch the man answer it.

The door swings open and the man demands, “What do you want?”

“Allerdyce wants you,” says Lila, throwing a thumb over her shoulder. She’s slouching over, looking like any other lazy fourteen year old. “Said something about the gas supply, and how it hasn’t arrived yet?”

The man’s eyes widen, and he turns back to the woman. “Ma’am-”

“Shut up,” she says, slashing her hand through the air. She turns back to Natasha. “We’re not done here.”

Lila holds the door for her, and she walks out with her head held high. The man turns to Natasha and crosses his arms. “You’re stuck here with me, sugar.” His smile grows.

Natasha barely resists rolling her eyes. She doesn’t risk looking at Lila, but knows she’s doing the same thing.

The man has just started towards her, presumably to retie her hand, when Lila jabs her shin between his legs. He collapses, wheezing, and she kicks the back of his head, knocking him out cold. It’s nearly silent. Lila grins as Natasha nods in approval.

Lila runs to her, untying her left hand and both ankles. Natasha stands, raises a hand to her jaw, and pops it back into place.

“What was that sound?” signs Lila, her face turning panicked. “What did you just do?”

“Relocated my jaw,” signs Natasha with her left hand, using her right hand to massage her cartilage. God, she hates doing that, always has. The sound will echo in her head for days. “Let’s go, honey.”

Lila gives her a doubtful look, but leads her out of the compound. Natasha isn’t sure how long she was out, but it seems like at least a day, because Lila knows exactly where she’s going.

They’d grabbed her as she was investigating a report of odd activity near the Hudson. She doesn’t usually go that far uptown into Steve’s territory, but with him out of town, she’d been the only option. Lila had been left with Alice and Nathaniel with orders to help people but not stray too far.

How her daughter found her, Natasha has no idea, but she goes along with it. Getting in here would have required every skill she’s ever taught Lila, and she’s proud of the way Lila checks corners and moves silently through the hallways.

They stumble out of the compound, which turns out to be right next to the Greenway. Natasha takes the lead, orienting them due south and speed walking past dilapidated buildings.

Lila has to jog a little to keep up. “Aren’t you disoriented? In pain? You have a bruise on your head.”

“Accelerated healing,” says Natasha. “I’m fine. It was an extremely mild concussion. I’ll be completely healed by tomorrow morning.”

[Her head still hurts, actually, but she’s very good at ignoring her pain. Be careful, though. Watch her.]

“Accelerated- why are you moving so fast?”

“It’s already dark outside,” she says, glancing around. “Also, I want to be far away by the time they realize we’re- we’ve escaped.”

“Okay,” says Lila, “but why do you have accelerated healing?”

Natasha doesn’t look at her, but she frowns. Stiffly. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? You’re my mother. You’re the only parent I have _left,_ Mama. You tell us about Mami and Dad all the time, but I never hear anything about you before you joined S.H.I.E.L.D. I don’t know anything about your past.”

“Maybe that’s for a reason,” says Natasha. “You don’t want to hear those stories, Lila. I don’t want to- I don’t want to tell you those stories.”

“I _do_ want to,” insists Lila. “I’ve seen enough. I can handle it. I’m not fragile.”

“You’re fourteen years old.”

“Yeah, and I bet you’d seen worse when you were fourteen. I bet Dad had.”

“Lila, everything I’ve done is to make sure you don’t have the childhood your dad or I had. Your mom didn’t even _see_ a gun until she was eighteen.”

“Mami grew up in another world,” says Lila. “Her parents didn’t disintegrate into ash. Her _brother_ didn’t disintegrate into ash.”

[Later that night, Lila will think back to this conversation and want to laugh. Laura’s brother went during the snap, actually, disintegrated into ash just like Cooper did. _Everyone_ lost a family member or seven, although Lila lost more than most. Sometimes, she wonders if it’s because she got so lucky for eleven years, with two secret agent parents who survived every single mission until they came up against Thanos.]

[She’s right, there’s irony there, but she doesn’t see all of it. Here’s the worst part, what Lila doesn’t realize: both of her secret agent parents survived every single mission, period. When Thanos snapped, Clint Barton was doing the dishes after breakfast, safe at home with his wife. Missing his other wife.]

[Consider, with me, for a second: do you think, if he’d broken house arrest and gone to fight, he would have survived?]

Natasha doesn’t say anything for a few blocks. Lila’s right, she knows she is, but there’s a reason she doesn’t talk about her past.

Finally, she says, “I don’t want to- look, Lila, it’s not something- it isn’t something I can just talk about. My- my childhood, it was- it was- why can’t I talk right?”

She stops walking. They’re almost to Alice and Nathaniel, but everything feels like it’s spinning. “Okay, maybe- probably not such a mild concussion.”

Lila gives her a concerned look. “Mama, we’re almost-”

She stops talking abruptly when Natasha collapses sideways, rushes to catch her before her head hits the pavement. The last thing she feels is Lila’s arm around her shoulders, her fingers digging into her skin.

* * *

[2021. June 10. 01:34.]

Natasha wakes up with the flat of someone’s hand on her forehead. It’s so familiar that, for just a minute, she regresses.

“Laura?”

“No.”

She peels open her eyes. Lila is kneeling above her, her hand flat on Natasha’s forehead.

“Sorry, honey.”

“It’s okay,” says Lila, flipping her hand so her knuckles brush against Natasha’s eyebrows.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t have a fever.”

“Why- why would I have a fever?” She coughs a little, and Lila turns around to get a bowl, helps her sit up, puts the soup in her lap.

“It’s Alice’s chicken barley soup,” says Lila. “And I don’t know. It’s the only thing I know how to check for.”

“Are my pupils dilated?”

“What?”

“Are the black parts of my eyes super wide,” says Natasha, gesturing at her face. She makes a mental note to teach Lila first aid. A lot of it.

“No...?” says Lila, peering into her eyes. “Um. No.”

“Good. I’m probably fine, then.” Natasha knows enough to usually be able to tell when her own pupils are dilated, but it’s nice to have the confirmation, especially since she still feels disoriented. “I’m sorry I passed out on you, baby.”

“It was scary, but I handled it,” says Lila, sounding mostly confident. “We were almost here. It was scarier to infiltrate the base.”

“Oh, right, the base,” says Natasha. “We need to tell Steve and Tony.”

“Later,” says Lila, frowning at her. “I want to know why you have accelerated healing.”

“Lila-”

“I don’t need to hear the details, if you don’t want to say them,” she interrupts. “But I think I deserve to know why.”

“I-” says Natasha, and stops. She looks down, swallows. Considers how best to say this.

“Lila, I didn’t... I didn’t _have_ parents, or a childhood, or anything you’ve had, even now. I was raised by a KGB organization called the Red Room. They stole us from our families, faked our deaths, and trained us to be assassins and information-gatherers. Everything I know about what I do, everything I taught you, I learned from them, except ASL and a few tricks for aiming from your dad. Among other things, they gave us a serum that tried to replicate Steve’s. It doesn’t work as well, obviously, but it built upon my training to make me a better operative and made me heal faster.”

Lila’s blinking rapidly. Natasha leans back, puts a hand back on the floor to support herself in a move she will always associate with Clint. “Any questions?”

Lila doesn’t say anything for a long while. Natasha takes the chance to devour her soup, which settles her stomach and calms her headache.

Finally, Lila shakes her head. “No,” she says. “I mean, I always knew you’d been through hard things, but... really? When did they take you?”

“I don’t know, exactly,” says Natasha. “I don’t remember my parents, but I think that’s more because they messed with my memories. Which they did. A lot. You remember what I told you about Bucky Barnes?”

“They did that to you?” says Lila, looking a little sick. Natasha shakes her head, smiling.

“No, honey. I only have some of the same memory issues that he did. And we served the same people for some time - actually, he trained me for a while. But we were in completely different situations. He was a human weapon. I was trained to be a little more.. subtle. A gun versus a scalpel, is how they used to put it.”

Lila frowns. Absently, she reaches up to push her hair over her shoulder. “That makes sense, I guess. I don’t think that _should_ make sense, but it does. Are you- you’re- you’re okay, now?”

“Yes,” says Natasha, smiling at her.

[Only mostly. But shush. We can let her have this.]

“Alright,” says Lila. “You’re pretty cool, huh?”

“You didn’t know that before?” says Natasha, smiling. “But _you’re_ also pretty cool. You broke me out of there very well. You’re learning quickly, and I don’t even have to use brainwashing to teach you.”

“Really?” says Lila. She ignores the joke. “I did well?”

“You did perfectly,” says Natasha. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”

“Thanks,” says Lila, pulling her into a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

* * *

[2022. March 4. 11:24.]

“Lila-”

“No! Mama, he’s my baby brother, and he can’t just be defenseless-”

“Lila, I am your _mother,_ and I am telling you-”

“I only have two family members left in this world,” says Lila. “Three if you count Aunt Alice. I will _not_ lose my brother because you refuse to let him learn how to defend himself. _You_ don’t even have to teach him. I’ll do it.”

“Lila!” says Natasha. “This is not a discussion. This is not a democracy. I am your mother, and that means my decision is final.”

“You’ve spent four years teaching me to be independent, and now you don’t want me to think for myself?” Lila swallows back her tears. “Of course not. Because I’ll always be a child to you.”

“Lila-” says Natasha, but Lila marches out of the room. She stands there for a few minutes, at a loss for words.

[How to express what you can’t express to yourself? How to talk through emotions when you never learned how to when you were a child, much less now that you’re an adult?]

The door opens. Natasha jumps a foot into the air, but it’s only Alice. “What the heck just happened?” she signs. “Lila says there was an argument but she wouldn’t tell me what it was about. She’s gone outside to- I don’t know.”

“She’ll be fine,” Natasha signs, the movement of her hands clipped with frustration. “Yes, it was an argument. She wants to teach Nathaniel how to defend himself. He’s eight years old.”

Alice shrugs. “It’s a different world.”

“I _know_ that, but it’s still not-”

She stops. They live with Alice at the site of her former co-op. They’ve lived with her for almost three years. She makes most of the food, teaches them how to do the same. Natasha has been trusting her with her children for almost three years. But she hasn’t said anything about her childhood, yet.

Obviously, Alice knows who she is. It’s been long enough for anyone, even in this world, to find some kind of internet connection and google her. But she doesn’t think Alice has read the leaked HYDRA files - she still sleeps in the same building as her, after all. Even Steve had treated her with kid gloves for a few days after the leak.

“I was raised to be a fighter,” she signs. That’s easy enough. “It was traumatic, obviously. I didn’t have a childhood. The things that I’m teaching Lila- the reason I know how to teach a child to fight is because it’s how _I_ was taught. I thought it was okay, because she was older than I had been and I was doing my best to not brainwash her and I needed the backup, but-”

“But Nathaniel’s the baby, and you don’t want to ruin that,” signs Alice. “You’re used to thinking of him as the innocent one.”

“Yes,” signs Natasha, surprised. “I hadn’t realized that, but that’s what I’m thinking. How do you know?”

“It’s how I feel,” signs Alice. “I know you’ve been training Lila since before you all met me, but I spend a lot of time with Nathaniel. It feels like he’s too young.”

“Exactly. And if he learns how to fight - that’s it. It feels like giving up. It feels like I’m betraying any kind of hope that the world will get better. And I think it’ll get better, I _do._ I think Tony will figure out a way to undo all of this. But giving up and training Nathaniel-”

“Natasha, it’s been four years. Even if the world will eventually recover, you can’t wrap your kids in blankets and pretend it’s enough. They need to be able to survive in _this_ world.”

Alice hesitates. “And... I know I don’t have any kids, but Lila seems like a very well adjusted child to me, considering the circumstances. I don’t think teaching her to fight has ruined anything. Obviously, she’s a mature kid, and she’s seen a lot of darkness, but that’s unavoidable in this world.”

Natasha sighs. She thinks back on Lila’s behavior, trying to be objective. It’s pretty normal, even after all of Natasha’s fears. “You’re right. And of course they should be trained to survive. It’s just- you never met the kids’ other parents.”

[It’s lucky that Alice turned out to be a former queer community advocate, as well as a superb cook, so Natasha can say things like this in normal conversation.]

“Their father went through a tough childhood, too. Less dehumanization, more traditional abuse. He would never forgive me for ruining their innocence. And their mother, their other mother...”

She stops to imagine the look on Laura’s face from early Saturday mornings, full of love. Natasha had never before felt the way she did when Laura first looked at her like that. She hasn’t felt that way since Laura died.

“Our wife wasn’t like us. She was a normal person, a psychology major. She would know this was justified, of course, but she would never truly understand it. It would make her sad. There was a time when I would have toppled governments to stop her from being sad.”

“That’s just love, honey,” signs Alice, carefully. “And if she loved you - if _both_ of them loved you - they would understand this. You know, your daughter is a smart kid. She wants to protect Nathaniel just as much as we do.”

“I know,” signs Natasha. “She’s right, of course. It’s just hard, and- well. You know what I mean.”

“Yes,” signs Alice. She hesitates. “Natasha- do you really think there’s any hope of fixing this?”

“Absolutely,” signs Natasha, with fervor. “There has to be. Bruce - Doctor Bruce Banner - and Tony Stark have been working at it for four years. Steve says they think they’re getting close. I think it may involve time travel, but I’m not sure? Of course, you didn’t hear anything from me. But yes, if there’s even the slightest chance, we’re going to reset it. The past four years- they need to be erased. Humanity’s darkest times...”

“That makes sense,” signs Alice, looking down a little. “You’re right. All of this should be erased. Just- if you undo it, leave yourself a note to find me? I want to meet your spouses. And your eldest.”

“Of course,” signs Natasha. Naturally, Alice has taken the time travel in stride. She takes everything in stride. It’s the only reason why they’ve been able to stick with her for this long. “Clint would love you.”

“I hope so,” signs Alice. “And, also? Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. I didn’t _hear_ anything from you.” She winks exaggeratedly.

“Shut up,” signs Natasha, instantly, but she’s laughing. “Shut up, shut up, you know what I meant.”

* * *

[2023. May 31. 08:47.]

They arrive at Stark’s compound early. Nathaniel runs off to play with Morgan, but Lila sticks close to Natasha.

Alice is with them too, because she didn’t want to stay alone in a broken New York City waiting, as she put it, like a “wartime widow” for them to fix the world. “Also, there is no way in hell I’m turning down the chance to meet Thor.”

Pretty quickly, she wanders off to look around. Over text, Tony had given Natasha’s whole party carte blanche to go anywhere they wanted, which Natasha recognizes as growth. Alice agrees to meet them for lunch and goes to find the organic farm that Tony supposedly has somewhere.

Tony Stark rounds the corner of the corridor they’re walking down. “Romanoff!” he says, opening his arms wide.

“Tony,” says Natasha, smiling despite herself as she hugs him. When she pulls back, she gestures to Lila. “You remember my daughter.”

“Of course,” says Tony, pulling down his sunglasses to meet her eyes. “Lila. How old are you now, twenty eight?”

“I’m sixteen,” says Lila, smiling a little in Natasha’s direction. _He’s crazy,_ her eyes say.

Tony makes a dismissive gesture. “Oh, well, you’ll be there before you know it. Don’t look different from your age, kid, take my word for it. Look at me. I’m fifty something, with a kid and everything, but I look like I’m twenty and stayed out too late after curfew. Terrible. Ah, Bruce, come say hello to Romanoff and her spawn.”

“Natasha, Lila,” says Bruce, awkwardly. He turns to Tony. “The equipment’s all set up, I was thinking we could-”

Lila turns to Natasha, looks down at her hands. Natasha obediently watches them. Lila signs, “Does he know what the legal drinking age is? The world ended, but it’s still at twenty-one.”

“I don’t think he really cared when he was young,” signs Natasha, trying to move her hands as little as possible so Tony won’t get curious, “so he assumes you’re the same way. Don’t bother correcting him - it’ll just make things worse.”

“Noted.”

“Hi,” says Steve, from behind them. Lila jumps, and it’s only through years of training that Natasha schools her expression. “Fancy seeing you two here.”

“Hi, Steve,” says Natasha, turning around. “Old folks homes still out of commission?”

“You can’t make old man jokes with me anymore,” says Steve. “I’ve read your files, remember? You’re no spring chicken yourself.”

“I’ll spring chicken you,” mutters Natasha.

“And Lila. Nice to see you. You’re taller than ever.”

“I inherited my dad’s height,” Lila says in a stage whisper. Steve grins, and then tilts his head and looks at them, considering, with his artist’s eye.

“But you’re a lot like your mom.”

Lila turns slightly. Natasha catches her eye out of the corner of her vision.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling a little. “I think I am.”

* * *

[2018. June 4. 14:20.]

When Natasha stumbles through the door, Laura’s face lights up. She sets down her glass and rushes over to Natasha, folds her into her arms. “Tasha.”

“Hi, Laura,” says Natasha, pressing her face into Laura’s shoulder to smell her shampoo, her laundry detergent, her favorite basil soap. There’s a prickling in her eyes, but she doesn’t let the tears fall yet, not until she can explain. And that has to wait until-

“Nat,” says Clint, appearing at the top of the stairs. By the time Natasha takes another deep breath of Laura, he’s right next to her, and he wraps his arms around them both. “Red, you did it. I trust you guys, but... man. It was doubtful, for a while there. Thanos was the real deal.”

“Yeah,” says Natasha, and then she has to pull back to clear her throat. God, she usually has perfect control over her emotions, but seeing them both here, breathing - so beautifully _alive_ \- is ruining that. She tries to smile at both of them, ignores the mention of the bastard that ended the world in the first place. “Fuck, I missed you both.”

“We missed you too,” says Laura, but she looks a little confused.

“It’s been two weeks,” says Clint. “And you were barely injured. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s great for you to miss us, but you’ve been away for longer without breaking a-”

The kids seem to have heard them, because they thunder down the stairs. Cooper has longer legs, but Lila reaches her first, practically jumping into her arms.

“Careful-” says Clint, but Natasha adjusts for the weight of an eleven year old girl without a pause. She kisses Lila’s forehead and leans forward so she can say into her ear, “We beat him this time.”

“You did,” says Lila, solemnly. Natasha has a feeling Lila is going to be solemn for her age for a long time.

“Mom!” says Cooper, putting his arms around her. Nathaniel, never to be left out, wraps his arms around Natasha’s left leg with more strength then he should probably have at his age.

That’s only a matter of genetics. Nathaniel doesn’t remember the lost five years, not like Natasha and Lila do. Not like Tony, Steve, Bruce, and Thor do.

[Almost no one in the universe remembers. It’s a wonderful feeling, being able to start fresh.]

[Well. Not _completely_ fresh.]

“I was thinking,” says Natasha, with her entire family in her arms. “We should go to New York.”

“New York?” says Clint. “You hate New York. Why do you want to go to New York?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” says Natasha, with a feigned casual air. She refuses to meet Lila’s eye, because if she does, both of them are going to lose it. “I hear there are good co-ops.”

Lila loses it anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> a few things:  
> \- i don't know ANYTHING about guns, so i tried to keep natasha's statements vague. please don't correct me, i don't care to know much about guns. but also please don't take anything she says as actual advice lol.  
> \- i based my portrayal of asl in this fic off of what i've read online about how to write characters who sign. i don't know enough about the grammar structure to transcribe exactly what the characters would be signing, so please consider the signing dialogue direct translations. PLEASE correct me if i've written something wrong!  
> \- the hawkeye name sign is, of course, [canonical](https://smallblueandloud.tumblr.com/post/613597473173340160/soundingonlyatnightasyousleep-image-comic) :) i tried to describe it to the best of my ability, but please feel free to correct me as i know much less asl than i hope to one day.  
> \- alice is based off of a lady from my church who died recently. in this fic, she's a queer Deaf community leader who's also a quaker, because reasons. if something's off in my portrayal of her, please let me know!  
> \- yes, i did indeed kill off senator kelly for no reason besides spite. i just finished xmen evolution, and like, _screw_ that guy.  
> \- you might notice that thor/bruce/tony actually try to help the world instead of wallowing in their sadness, retreating to solve a personal problem that just causes more work for the vfx department, or retiring completely. i don't think any of them would give up like that (i'm especially angry over thor's portrayal, and just after his character arc in ragnarok- i'm stopping myself here.) i changed a lot of small things like that because i'm small and full of anger.  
> \- laura barton is cuban in this fic, just like everything i write that she's in. the kids call her mami and natasha mama.  
> \- nat's whole backstory in this is based off my own personal headcanons, which i detail in a fic i HOPE to publish at some point. she does a lot of things unconsciously - hence, the breaking of the fourth wall, so y'all can see a bit more than she'll tell you :D  
> \- check out this fic's [fic tag](https://smallblueandloud.tumblr.com/tagged/fic%3A-the-landslide-will-bring-it-down) for old excerpts, various writing updates, and bonus content if i find any, lol.
> 
> stop by [my tumblr](https://smallblueandloud.tumblr.com) to hear me yelling about natasha romanoff, it that's something that sounds appealing to you. stay safe to the best of your abilities, y'all. stay INSIDE AS MUCH AS YOU CAN. we're gonna get through this <3


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